Snapshots - Child of Light
by iAMwhatIamK
Summary: (Contest piece for DeviantArt) Childhood passes by so quickly, leaving us with only brief memories of what was most precious...Arianna's life changed when she had her daughter, Claire. But as life goes on, it's Claire that ends up changing the most... Told through Lightning's mom's eyes.


**So I wrote this as a contest piece for DeviantArt, and I thought I'd share it with you guys. If you haven't noticed, I like writing short bit, like snapshots, and then combining them into a story. Moving on, here's the story.**

**Warning: There is a birth scene in the beginning, but I kept it real benign. Also, the end is really sad.**

* * *

**Snapshots – Child of Light**

The pain that tore apart my body was like nothing I've ever know before. My husband looked at me with eyes of concern as I screamed.

"Come on, Arianna. You're almost there."

I honestly didn't think I'd be able to go on much longer. All I knew was after this, I was going to kill him for doing this to me.

I screamed as the pain increased nearly tenfold, only to have my own scream harmonized with a small cry. Marc held them up—a little girl. I felt tears come to my eyes.

He cut the cord and wrapped her up before putting her in my arms. "You did great, Ari," he said, kissing my sweaty forehead.

"You're lucky…"

"Why's that?"

"I've decided not to kill you."

He laughs and kisses me again. We both look down at our daughter; she fussing a little, curled up against my chest. "So what are we going to name her?"

I caress her tiny face. So beautiful, so innocent. "Claire…I've always loved the name Claire."

"Claire…I like it."

So that's how our little girl, Claire Alecia Farron, was bought into the world. And our lives were then forever changed.

* * *

Marc was sitting on the floor, playing with Claire. I was cleaning up in the kitchen, listening to the two of them laughing together. I turned on the water and stared washing the dishes. It was nice to have Marc home. He was almost always gone, off on some mission with the Guardian Corps. He told me he was ascending the ranks, that he might even get reassigned as a PSICOM member. Silently, I prayed against it: it would put him in harm's way more than usual, and we'd barely see him. I wanted him to have an active role in our family.

"Ari!" Marc called from the other room. "Come quick!" I dropped the pan into the soapy water and arrived in the room just as Claire began to make her way wobbly towards her father. My hand went to my mouth and I started to cheer for her. "Come to Daddy," he said, arms out wide. A couple times, she nearly fell, but eventually, she made it into her father's arms.

"That's my girl!" he said, picking her up and tossing her into the air. He catches her and presses his lips against her tummy, blowing out and making her erupt in laughter.

Tears start to come to my eyes. While I would have loved for her first steps to be towards me, I knew that having it be her Daddy was just right. I look at both of their smiling faces, so enamored with one another, so incredibly in love.

* * *

"Mommy," she cried as she runs into my arms. I take hold of my little girl, so glad to see her again. "I missed you, Mommy. When do you get to come home?"

"Soon," I whisper, smoothing her hair. I lean in close, looking into those intoxicating ice blue eyes. "Do you want to see your baby sister?" She nods her head rapidly. Marc holds little Serah in his arms, and Claire looks at her with eyes of wonder.

"Can I hold her please?" she whispers, as if she's afraid she'll wake her by being too loud. Marc smiles at her and nods. Claire climbs up next to me and settles herself in the crook of my arm. He lays Serah gently in her arms.

Part of my heart melted right then and there, seeing the two of them together, the love for her little sister already so evident in her face. Serah starts to fuss in her sleep.

"It's okay, Serah," Claire whispers. "I'm here. Nothing's going to hurt you."

"You're going to be a great big sister, Claire. I just know it."

* * *

"Serah, please don't play with your food." The little three year old smiles up at me with a cheeky grin, pasta sauce smeared all over her face and hands.

Claire smiled looking at her sister, putting a forkful of food in her own mouth. "You know Mom doesn't like it when you play with your food, Serah."

"Mom also doesn't like it when you talk with your mouth full." She purses her lips together, looks back at me with devious eyes, and wipes her face with her napkin.

I notice movement outside the window, but dismiss it as nothing. "Hurry and finish your dinners, girls. It almost time for bed." Both girls groan and start to argue, but then the door creaks open. All three of our heads turn to face a pair of ice blue eyes, wind-blown pink hair, and a smile that would light the night.

"DADDY!" Both girls are up and running; he drops his thing, opens his arms, and takes them both in his arms, swinging them around, their laughter filling the house.

"I missed you both so much," he says, squeezing them tighter. Both cry out for mercy and he puts them down, looking to me now. "Hello beautiful," he whispers taking me in his arms.

"What are you doing home? I thought you'd be deployed for a bit longer."

"So did I," he says, pulling me closer, his hands straying. "Maybe we can celebrate my being home early after we get the girls into bed…?"

I push away from here. "Oh no you don't…two is enough, thank you."

"Two what, Mommy?" Serah asks.

"Two perfect little girls," Marc says, kissing them each on the forehead. "Now both of you, off to bed. We'll be in soon to tuck you in." Claire takes her sister's hand and leads her away. "They really are such good girls."

"Yes," I whisper, wrapping my arms around his middle. "They're wonderful…but they're growing up so fast, Marc. You're missing it."

"Ari, I'm doing everything I can to be here…but the Corps…they need me, Ari."

"We need you too."

"Well, I'm here now." I hold him close and take in his strength, his smell, his love for our family…and I don't ever want to let him go.

* * *

I never realized a heart could hurt this bad. I'd told him to stay out of PSICOM for this exact reason, but somehow, death had still entered our lives.

They had come to the door, knowing the instant I'd seen them what had happened. They said he'd died saving another young man, that one of PSICOM's pets had attacked them. My husband had shot at it, drawing attention on himself. It leapt, attacked, and that was the end.

Because his death was PSICOM's fault, we wouldn't be receiving any compensation. He did die in a "training exercise", after all. Men from his unit had already volunteered to help out where they could, but it wasn't the same. Claire was 10, Serah was 7, and now both of them would be growing up without a daddy.

My door started to open. I looked up to find Claire looking down at the floor, avoiding my gaze.

"Claire, sweetie, what is it?" I ask, my voice still laced with anguish.

"I got Serah into bed for you," she says, looking at the floor.

"Claire, sweetheart, is everything alright?" She looks up at me and her eyes are bloodshot. I gasp, looking at her in pain. "Sweetie, it's alright," I struggle to say. "You're allowed to cry."

"No," she shakes her head. "Daddy told me I had to be strong…I have to be strong…for you and Serah…"

"Claire," I whisper, going to her side. I take her face in my hands and look into her eyes. "Sometimes, it takes an enormous amount of strength to be vulnerable. I think Daddy'd say it was ok for you to cry."

She grabs me and her small body is raked with sobs. "I miss him so much, Mommy."

"I miss him too, sweetie," I whimper, holding her tight. "Me too…"

* * *

I push the door open and steal a glance at the clock: four in the morning. In two hours, I'll have to get up, get myself ready, wake up the girls, get them out the door, and go back to work. I stumble to my bed room and fall on the bed. Before I know it, the clock is screaming at me, saying it's time to get up. I would love to pitch it across the room, and go back to sleep, but I manage to drag myself into the shower and get myself ready for the day ahead.

By seven, I'm dressed, make-up on, and ready for the day. I walk past Serah's bedroom to find both girls asleep on her bed. Smiling, I walk over to Claire's side and brush her hair out of her face. "Claire, sweetie, it's time to get up."

"Ten more minutes," she says in her sleep, stretching her arms up over her head.

I take her in my arms, with a great amount of struggle, and carry her into her own room. "If I don't hear you moving in eight minutes," I say, laying her on her bed, "you are going to be in so much trouble." She gives a frustrated sigh as I walk back to Serah's room. "Baby girl, time to get up."

"Morning, Mommy," she says, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. I pull out some clothes for her before leaving to make breakfast.

Claire is in the kitchen first, dressed in a Guardian Corps brown shirt, jeans, and boots. Serah follows suit, dressed in a pretty pink dress, leggings, and ballet flats. My girls really couldn't be more different. Breakfast consists of small talk, quick bites, and before I know it, they're running for the door.

"Hey Mom," Claire asks, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, sweetie; what is it?"

"Could we go to the beach this weekend for my birthday…just spend the day together, the three of us?"

I'd completely forgotten her birthday was this week; what kind of mother was I? "Of course, sweetie, if that's what you want."

"It is," she says, kissing me on the cheek before running out the door. "And don't worry," she calls back, "I forgive you for forgetting."

* * *

I really needed more days off like this; the sand underfoot, the sound of my girls laughing as they chased waves, collected shells, and just acted like children. I steal a glance at Claire, whose chasing waves on a wakeboard; it's been so long since I've seen her enjoying herself. Ever since Marc's death, she's been trying to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. That's why I don't tell her about the money…how even though I'm working two jobs, both full time, and a part time on the side, we still are struggling to make ends meet. I don't tell her…but somehow, extra funds always appear in the mix at the end of the month.

Serah screams from further down the beach, her face full of glee, as she runs towards her sister with a conch shell. Now if only I could keep them like this for forever.

* * *

I pull Serah closer as she whimpers in her sleep, the thunder shaking the house. It's been over a year now, but storms still give her nightmares about Marc's death. I feel her steady heartbeat next to mine; I kiss her on the head, whispering it will be alright.

"Mom," a voice says from the doorway. Lightning flashes, illuminating Claire's figure. "I can't sleep…can I stay in here?" I pat the mattress next to me and she slips in between the sheets. She looks towards the window, mesmerized. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"What, sweetie?"

"The lightning…so bright one second, then gone the next. So powerful, so dangerous…the perfect killer…"

"Claire, don't talk like that."

"It fascinates me, Mom. It is my namesake after all." I can't argue with her there. She seems to go off into her own world, staring off. "Mom," she says finally, "would you ever let me join the Guardian Corps?"

"Where did that come from?"

"I don't know…I've been thinking about it for a while now. I understand if you don't want me to, but I'd like your approval."

"Claire," I say, sitting up and giving Serah to her. I move over to my closet and pull out a box that's well worn. "I knew this would come up some day…no, I don't mind you wanting to join the Corps. While I might have my reservations about it, I always knew that you'd want to join…you're too much like your father to not want to." I bite my lips, struggling to say what's next. "I know he'd want you to have this, at least while you're starting out."

I open the lid and she gasps. "Dad's gunblade…Mom, are you sure?"

"He'd want you to have it…and it's only temporary, at least until you have your own."

She fingers the metal adoringly. "I don't know what to say…"

"Just stay safe, alright Claire. I don't know what I would do if I lost the both of you…"

She wipes a tear from my eye. "Don't worry, Mom. Nothing's going to happen to me…"

* * *

_There had to be some sort of mistake, I'd tried to tell them._

_I'm sorry, Mrs. Farron, the doctor had said, but there's nothing we can do._

I lay my head down on the table and let the sobs overtake me again.

_You don't understand; I'm a single mother…I have two daughters…this can't…THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING._

_I'm very sorry, ma'am. There are some procedures we could try, but in the end, it won't change the result…_

The front door swings open and I can hear their running feet. "Mom," Serah says walking into the room, throwing her stuff on the ground. "You're home early," she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. "What's the occasion?" She finally sees my face. "Mom, what's wrong?"

Claire looks at me, her body language hesitant. "Mom…?"

"Girls…I have something to tell you…"

* * *

Both of them sat in silence while I told them. The doctors said I had less than a year. Serah started sobbing, tears streaming down her face in endless stream while Claire glared.

"I'm so sorry, girls, but there's nothing they can do…"

"No…" Serah and I both look at Claire, her face red. "NO!" She screams, her chair slamming to the ground. "There's got to be another way…"

"Claire, there is no other way…"

"Shut up! You promised Dad…you promised we'd stay together. AND NOW YOU'RE LEAVING US!" She storms out the room, my heart on the ground.

Serah comes to my side and tries to comfort me. "She didn't mean it, Mom…she's just hurting."

I knew what Serah said was right, but that didn't mean the words still didn't hurt.

* * *

I held the picture in my hands, my thumb caressing his image. A perfect family on the outside…now a shattered mess.

"Mom," a voice whispers. I turn and find Claire looking at the floor in front of me, unable to look at me. I feel a jab in my heart. Finally, she looks up at me and I see her bloodshot eyes. The next moment, I can't breathe because she's squeezing me so tightly. "I shouldn't have said that to you…I'm so sorry…please forgive me, Mommy."

"Oh sweetie," I mutter, wetting her hair with my tears. "Of course I forgive you."

"I don't want you to leave. Don't go, Mom…please don't go…"

* * *

The doctor tending to me looked down with sad eyes. Deep down, I knew it was time. I'd fought for as long as I could, longer than what anyone had thought, but my body couldn't take it anymore. I was dying.

"Claire," I say, barely above a whisper, to my child who looks on with dark eyes, "please get Serah." She nods, biting back tears.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Farron," the doctor says, packing his things. "I did the best I could." Both girls now stand in the doorway. "I'll leave you be."

Serah runs to the bedside and snuggles up to me. "Please don't go yet, Mommy. Stay with us."

"I wish I could, Serah…I wish I could." She cries and continues to beg until I feel her breathing slow; she's asleep.

"Claire," I struggle to say, looking at my eldest. Tears are welling up in her eyes. "I need you to be brave for me now…Just like you promised Daddy, alright."

"Mom, please…" Tears start to gather in her eyes as she takes my hand in hers; it feels so very small now, like my body's been eaten away. "Don't leave us. Serah needs you…I need you."

I brush her hair out of her face so I can look into her eyes one last time. "I wish I could stay." Pain rakes through my body; I take in a sharp breath. "I love you both very much," I say finally. "Take care of one another."

"I will, Mom…nothing's going to tear apart this family. Nothing."

"I love you, Claire…I love you, Serah…" And then everything faded away…

* * *

"Miss Farron." The girl with ice blue eyes and rose colored hair looked up at the teacher. She gathers her report and heads to the front of the class.

She lets out a deep breath. Just like you practiced…

"My hero," she begins. "A while ago, if you'd asked me this question, I'd have answered without any hesitation my father, Marc Farron. But now, my answer is different. Don't get me wrong; I still believe my father is a hero. He gave his life for another man; and while he was alive, he was a great role model, a wonderful father, an abundant provider, and a loving, faithful husband.

"But not all heroes need medals, or fanfare, or recognition, even though they deserve it. Most of the time, they're the ones we overlook. But really, they deserve the honor the most.

"My hero sacrificed everything they had for the wellbeing of others, never complaining, never asking for any help. They gave endlessly, wearing themselves thin, but still managed to smile and see the bright side of things, even when life got hard. They were a role model, encouraging those closest to them to love endlessly, laugh often, and to believe in yourself. They encouraged me to not take the world on my shoulders, and rather learn what you can when life turns for the worse. They taught me strength isn't always about being the strongest, but being someone who shows they're vulnerable and willing to help others through their weakness. My hero was wise, but overlooked; beautiful, but not admired; priceless, but not adored." She pauses a moment, trying to control her emotions. "I didn't know what I had until it was gone. So this is how I honor her, through this speech and through how I conduct myself. My hero is my mother, Arianna Farron, and my only regret is that I didn't tell her how much she meant to me."

The class was silent as she placed the report on the teacher's desk and went back to her seat. She didn't pay attention to the other reports; she just sat with her head resting in her arms, crying silently to herself.

* * *

**I'd love to hear what you guys think.**

**Dedicated to my own mother, who loves us with all her heart and would do anything for us. Love you, Mommy.**


End file.
